


let's go to the movies

by dumbkili



Category: Tuck Everlasting - Miller/Tysen/Shear & Federle
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babysitting, Humor, au where there's no spring, going to the movies!, miles drives a shitty car, nobody is straight, really an obnoxious amount of dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7344565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbkili/pseuds/dumbkili
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse and Miles are the worst (but also really the best) babysitters a middle schooler could ever hope for, movies are kept ambiguous to avoid dating the story, Hugo has a job at a radio station because he's a dweeb, and heterosexuals no longer exist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's go to the movies

**Author's Note:**

> guess who's back and better than ever
> 
> me

There were a lot of bad sounds in the universe, from forks scratching on plates to country music, but the sound of bells ringing through the halls of a high school was, as Jesse Tuck had decided, the absolute  _ worst _ . It was always too loud no matter where you stood, always jarring even if you were expecting it, and, most importantly, it didn’t seem to have any real purpose.

 

“Jesse, sit down. The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do.” His last period math teacher stared at him pointedly until he sank back into his chair, then turned back to the whiteboard and began writing down the homework. “Only three questions out of the textbook tonight, folks. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

 

“Yeah, but how many parts does each question  _ have _ ?” someone called from the back. They didn’t get a reply, and the whole class groaned at the implication. 

 

“If you’ve written down the homework, you can leave,” said the teacher, and Jesse was out of the room like a shot, leaving behind nothing but some pencil shavings and the faint smell of overly-fruity bubblegum. It was a Friday; he wasn’t gonna stay in that stupid classroom any longer than he was legally required to.

 

The hallways were mostly empty as he started moving through them, but as he went on they got more and more packed until he was practically shoving his way through crowds of freshman to get to his locker. After a few seconds of frantically scrambling to remember the combination (it was only the second month of school, okay  _ so sue him _ if he didn’t have it  _ memorized _ yet) he got it open, dumping most of his binders inside and grabbing his jacket. Next stop: Miles. He just had to get back out through this ocean of fourteen year olds first. 

 

“The hallway is for  _ moving _ ,” he muttered, squeezing around a stationary crowd of students. “That means you _ move _ .” For the millionth time in his life he wondered why on earth he hadn’t gotten at least a couple more inches of height somewhere in his DNA- and how in the world Miles had gotten so many.

 

He could see his brother’s head above most of everyone else’s, getting something out of his locker and carefully putting it into his backpack. Probably trying to neatly slide it in between all his folders or something like a total  _ geek _ . Jesse, on the other hand, didn’t have any folders. Jesse was a busy guy who was happy to let his homework and assignments crumple at the bottom of his backpack under his laptop.

 

“Miles!” he said loudly, sliding into place as Miles slammed his locker door shut. He didn’t get even a twitch of surprise, not even a little jump, which was disappointing. 

 

“What do you want, Jesse?” 

 

“Always great to see you, big brother.”

 

“I’m serious. If you’re gonna take up a lot of my time, can it wait? I’m babysitting Winnie today.” Miles took it upon himself to preemptively end the conversation there, turning away from Jesse to walk down the hallway. Jesse broke into a jog and pulled in front of him, walking backwards through the crowd to force Miles to look at him.

 

“Yeah, listen, about that- ow, watch it-,” he said as someone elbowed him out of their way. “I’m going with you. Already cleared it with Mrs. Foster, everything’s cool, we’re both getting paid the same amount, just like always.”

 

Miles frowned. “I thought you had a date tonight. I was gonna get paid double without you there.”

 

Jesse noticeably hesitated, then shrugged in what was obviously supposed to be a blasé manner. “Uh, yeah, that’s not happening anymore. My schedule’s clear.” He glanced over his shoulder for a second, presumably to check that he wasn’t about to hit anyone else, then turned back to Miles. “So. You wanna give me a ride to Winnie’s?”

 

“...Sure,” Miles said after a moment. “You’re not gonna eat in my car, are you?”

 

“I would never!”

 

“There’s still a chip bag in there from the last time you rode in it.”

 

“Well, seeing as that was last week, that's more of a problem with vehicle maintenance than a problem with passenger cleanliness.” Miles shot him a look and Jesse laughed loudly, turning back around to walk normally and hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders. 

 

The passenger door on Miles’ car was dented, and had always been dented, ever since he bought it third or fourth-hand from a used car dealership the moment he turned sixteen. One of the windows in the back didn’t close all the way, and entire thing was painted a bizarre dark teal color. Miles cared for it like it was his own child. Jesse had always thought it was kind of janky, but he wasn’t about to tell his brother that when he got free rides around town in it.

 

“Shotgun gets radio!” he cried as he shut the door, and Miles groaned.

 

“ _ Fine _ , but as long as you don’t put on that-”

 

“Too late!” He’d already got his hand on the dial and was slowly turning it, pushing through layers of static and nostalgic rock ‘n roll stations until he found what he was looking for. There was a few seconds of silence before a beat that could only be described as ‘sunny’ flooded the car, followed almost immediately by vocals. Miles shook his head and pulled out of the parking lot as Jesse sang along. 

 

“ _ If you got feelings for me, you just gotta speak honestly, if you let me down, let me down slow _ …” He was horribly off-key, but he seemed like he was enjoying himself. The song _ was _ pretty catchy. “ _ If you let me down, let me down slow. _ ”

 

“I don’t understand why you like this station.”

 

“It’s  _ upbeat _ , dude! Not like that emo shit  _ you _ like.” He ignored the annoyed frown Miles gave him. “Plus, I’m like, morally obligated to listen to it because Hugo’s shift starts in an hour and if nobody listens he gets discouraged.” Jesse turned to Miles and did the best puppy eyes he could manage. “You wouldn’t want Hugo to feel  _ discouraged _ , would you?”

 

“Ugh, stop, no,” Miles said, backtracking instantly. “That guy looks like a sad baby animal on the  _ regular _ .” He took a turn sharply and Jesse slammed into the passenger door with a grunt. “Put on your seatbelt. You’ll get yourself killed.”

 

“Yeah sure fine whatever,” muttered Jesse, reluctantly clicking the buckle closed. “Anyway, got any ideas for what we’re gonna do with Winnie today?”

 

Milles shrugged one shoulder, both hands on the wheel, 10 and 2 o’clock. “Dunno. Was mostly just planning on, uh, helping her do homework and then studying for my calc test on Monday.” 

 

“What?!” Jesse exclaimed. “Miles, that’s so boring! You’re gonna kill her with fucking- fricking ennui!”

 

“Wow, Jesse, I’m surprised you know what that word means.”

 

“Shut up, this is serious,” he said, crossing his arms defensively. “Babysitting is an important job, Miles. We gotta be  _ fun _ . Gotta make it interesting!”

 

“Or we could do what we’re being  _ paid _ to do, which is make sure she eats dinner and does her homework and goes to bed on time,” Miles retorted, turning onto Winnie’s street. “And by the way, this was my job originally. You’re not calling the shots here.” He glanced over at Jesse. “Hey! Get your feet off the dash.”

 

“Dick.”

 

“What was that?” Miles asked, taking one hand off the wheel to put it to his ear sarcastically.

 

“I said, ‘you got it, Miles!’” Jesse replied sunnily, flashing a big smile and pulling his feet off of the dashboard. “Keep your eyes on the road, grandpa.”

 

“This is New Hampshire,” said Miles, pulling into the Foster’s driveway, “not a GTA game. I think we’re safe if I take one second to look at you defiling my car.”

 

“Defiling?!” Jesse squawked. “I just put my feet on the fucking-”

 

“Watch your language. Winnie’s very impressionable.” 

 

“She’s eleven, not two!”

 

“We’re role models, Jesse.” Miles’ voice was perfectly level, contrasting with Jesse’s steadily rising pitch. A turn of the key and the engine gave one last rattle before going silent. “Anyway, plan stands. Homework, dinner, bed. And then  _ I  _ can study.” He got out of the car, and Jesse scrambled out as well. “ _ You _ can do whatever it is you do in your free time. Eat raw sugar, or whatever.” He was at the front door and ringing the bell before Jesse could think up with a suitable comeback. 

 

Mrs. Foster opened the door within seconds of the bell ringing. Jesse had always liked her. She was quiet, and very reserved (especially after the loss of her husband last year), but she had a warmth to her, a tired kind of friendliness that was instantly appealing. Even if she didn’t pay him to watch her child and he only saw her occasionally in the supermarket on weekends, Jesse would care about her. She was just that kind of person. 

 

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re right on time,” she said before they could even say hello. “I’ve got to run- my appointment’s in an hour.” She pulled on a jacket from the hook by the door and stood aside so they could enter the house, talking the whole time. “There’s some frozen chicken in the fridge that you can make, and you can piece together some sides from whatever else we’ve got. Winnie has math homework and a history paper to finish. After this appointment, I’m going to visit my mother-in-law, so I won’t be home ‘til close to midnight. Sorry to just dash out like this, but I really am going to be late. Thank you so much, boys!” And with that, she was gone.

 

“Hi, Mrs. Foster,” Jesse said to the empty- and absolutely military-grade spotless- room. Miles lightly whacked the back of his head. From the floor above them, there was a sudden pounding noise, and within seconds Winnie had appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing socks with little stars on them and a dress which honestly looked a bit antiquated, but which suited her.

 

“Jesse! Miles! You’re here!” she exclaimed, rushing down the rest of the way once she saw who they were. Miles gave a little wave and shrugged off his backpack. 

 

“Hey, kid.”

 

“Sup, Winn?” Jesse said, giving her a high five. She missed the center of his hand, and he made a fake-disappointed tsking sound. “Weak. Let’s try that again. Look at my elbow this time, okay?” 

 

“Okay.”

 

“Ready?”

 

“Yeah.” Winnie was concentrating so hard that her tongue was sticking out from between her teeth like a cat. “Okay, let’s go.” 

 

The resulting high five had an extremely satisfying and loud  _ slap _ sound. Jesse laughed, ruffling Winnie’s hair and discreetly shaking his hand out where she couldn’t see. Kid was strong as shit. That  _ stung _ .

 

“So, what do you wanna do today?” he asked, leading the way into the kitchen. Behind him, Miles cleared his throat loudly.

 

“We’ve already have a plan, remember?”

 

“It’s not homework, is it?” Winnie groaned. “It’s a Friday! I shouldn’t have to do it all  _ now _ !”

 

“Trust me, you’ll be glad it’s out of the way,” Miles assured her, and Jesse scoffed.

 

“Says  _ you _ . Some of us do it Monday morning and everything’s fine.”

 

“Says the straight-C student.”

 

“Says the guy with the stick up his-”

 

“- _ Jesse- _ ”

 

“I was gonna say  _ butt _ .”

 

Winnie covered her smile with one hand and hopped up on a stool in the kitchen. This was why she loved when both of the Tuck boys babysat her, even though she didn’t think she really  _ needed _ a babysitter anymore, let alone two. It was like having a sitcom play out in her own house. At least, she assumed that’s what it was like. Her television privileges were usually pretty limited, except when Jesse had a say in things. Miles was fun too, but in his own way. He was quieter, more self-contained, which could be nice sometimes. Except when he was trying to make her do homework on a  _ Friday _ . 

 

“Can we see a movie?” she asked, interrupting their argument, which had shifted from homework to Jesse’s poor passenger-seat etiquette. Their heads snapped towards her at the exact same time, like two surprised and slightly confused owls. “I just- I just wanna do something  _ fun _ and get out of the house for a change, you know?” Before she even finished her sentence, Miles was shaking his head.

 

“Winnie, your mother left specific-”

 

“ _ Heck _ yes we can-”

 

“Jesse, we  _ can’t _ -”

 

“ _ Jesus Christ _ , Miles, just  _ look _ at her!” Jesse cried, moving behind Miles and turning his shoulders so that he was fully facing Winnie. “Look at this poor child. She wants to have a  _ good time _ .” He shot Winnie a pointed look and she tried to look sadder. Miles was always weak when it came to puppy eyes.

 

“Please, Miles?” she asked quietly, and Jesse shot her a thumbs up and a nod. The conflict was clear on Miles’ face- do what he was supposed to, or do something nice for Winnie? She tried to make the correct choice more obvious by adding one more tiny “Please?” He groaned.

 

“Ugh. Fine. We’ll go see a f- a dumb movie. Stop making that face, you’ll hurt yourself.” Behind him, Jesse mimed cheering like he’d just watched someone make a touchdown. Winnie broke out in a huge smile, hopping off her stool in excitement.

 

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she cried, giving him a hug. When she pulled back, he was making a weird face- sort of confused and sort of happy and sort of annoyed. A Miles specialty. 

 

“I’m not paying for candy,” he warned her. “And you have to eat real food before we go.” He whipped around to look at Jesse, who still had his hands raised in excitement. “And you. Don’t make me regret this.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Jesse, hastily dropping his arms and clearing his throat. He winked at Winnie as soon as Miles wasn’t looking at him again, and she giggled. Then he pulled out his phone and opened up Fandango, scrolling through the movie options. “Anything in particular you want to see, Winn?”

 

“A horror movie!”

 

“No,” Miles said without turning around from where he was pulling dinner ingredients out of the fridge. Winnie deflated, then perked up again.

 

“A superhero movie!” she offered, bouncing up on her toes a little bit. “With explosions and bad guys and superpowers!”

 

Jesse scrolled through his phone for a couple of seconds. “Okay, there’s a showing of that new Marvel movie at eight-thirty. We’d be home by 10:45 at the latest.”

 

“Yes! I wanna see that one,” said Winnie, nodding enthusiastically. “Pretty please, Miles?”

 

“Yeah, Miles,” Jesse added. “Pretty please?”

 

Miles managed to make chopping spinach passive aggressive. “You realize that we’re losing money if we do this, right? Not to mention that movie’s PG-13.”

 

“It’s to better the youth, Miles. It’ll make her happy.”

 

“She’s going to fall asleep in the middle of it. It’s way past her bedtime.”

 

“But she’ll have fun!” Jesse retorted. “I’ll even pay for my own ticket. Scout’s honor.”

 

Miles moved on to cutting up tomatoes. “You dropped out of the Boy Scouts after, like, a week.” Probably for the best that he hadn’t stayed, really, because they were homophobic as fuck, but the point still stood. He sighed, suddenly, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to back out of this. “You know what? Whatever. Pay for your ticket. We’ll go. It’s a bad idea, but we’ll go.”

 

“Haha,  _ nice _ ,” said Jesse. “I’ve actually been wanting to see this one for a while.”

 

“Take the chicken out of the freezer,” Miles told him, pressing his mouth into a thin line and trying to ignore the spectacularly ill-advised decision he had just made. “And since we’re seeing the PG-13 one, Winnie has to do at least half her math homework before we go.”

 

Jesse and Winnie made eye contact and he gave her a tiny shrug. “It’s the best deal you’re gonna get.”

 

She hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Okay. Deal.” Not wasting any time, she dashed out of the kitchen and clomped upstairs to her room. “Call me when dinner’s ready!” she shouted back down, and then the door to her bedroom clicked closed. 

 

Jesse smiled. “I know that nobody under sixty uses this adjective, but she’s a real spitfire.”

 

“Tell me about it,” said Miles, shaking his head. “A manipulative spitfire, too. Although she had some help.” 

 

“I- what- wh- What are you implying?” Jesse spluttered, pressing a hand against his chest as though he were offended. Miles rolled his eyes.

 

“You know what I’m implying. Shut up and preheat the oven.”

 

Dinner turned out pretty well for having been made by two teenage boys with extremely limited cooking experience. It was just some chicken and rice and a salad, but nothing was burnt, so they all considered it an unqualified success. Winnie was practically vibrating with excitement while they cleaned up, but was visibly holding herself back from saying something that might get this strange new adventure cancelled.

 

They left the house at seven forty-five, and since it was October the sky was already darkening. Jesse made a show of buckling his seatbelt, for both Winnie and Miles’ benefit, and turned on the radio again. Hugo’s voice came out through the speakers, quietly introducing the next song, which turned out to be  _ Soul Sister _ , by Train.

 

“Aw,” said Jesse, turning it up. “I haven’t heard this song in  _ forever _ .”

 

“It’s cheesy,” Miles complained. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“You say that about everything positive.” Jesse twisted around in the passenger seat to look at Winnie in the back. “What d’ya think, Winn? Yay or nay?”

 

She shrugged. “I like it. It’s fun!” Jesse looked at Miles as if to say,  _ Even the kid gets it. _

 

The movie theater was crowded when they arrived; Eight-thirty on a Friday night was hardly an unpopular time to go to the movies, even without factoring in the popularity of the one they were trying to see. Jesse let Miles and Winnie go ahead of him in line to buy their tickets together, then stepped up to the teller for his.

 

“One adult ticket for the eight-thirty, please.”

 

A pause. The teller looked at him. “Adult? That’s for fifteen and up.” From somewhere behind him, Miles snorted.

 

“What- I’m sixteen! Almost seventeen!”

 

“...Okay then. Seven fifty-five, please.” He paid and stalked back over to Winnie and Miles, who were both red in the face with the effort of not laughing. 

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I didn’t say anything,” Miles defended himself, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “But do you wanna grab a booster seat before we head into the theater?”

 

“I hate you. So much.”

 

“Kiddie popcorn? One of those under-ten combo meals?”

 

“Is there a way to legally secede from a family?” Jesse asked Winnie, as if she would know. She shook her head helplessly, still trying not to break out in giggles. He sighed. “Thanks for the help, Winns.”

 

The movie was longer than they had been expecting, but even Miles had to admit that it wasn’t bad. There was lots of explosions and gratuitous over-choreographed fight scenes, but the plot was interesting and the actors were committed to their roles. At some point, Jesse became aware that Winnie was laughing less and less, but it was only when the lights turned on and people started filing out of the theater that he realized she was fast asleep.

 

“Oh. My god.”

 

“What?”

 

“She’s asleep. Oh my god.” Jesse pressed both hands against his mouth like breathing too hard would wake her up. Miles sighed quietly and rested his head in one hand for a moment.

 

“I knew this was a bad idea. It’s too late for her to be out.” He stood up. “Okay. How are we gonna do this?”

 

Jesse thought for a second. “Um. Carry her?”

 

“Can’t we just wake her up?”

 

“Miles, this girl slept through a movie full of  _ explosions _ and  _ fights _ . I don’t think us mere mortals could help her if we  _ tried _ .” Jesse nudged her just to make sure. She didn’t react at all, unless you counted her head rolling slightly on her shoulders from one side to the other. “Yeah. She’s out.”

 

It took a lot of maneuvering, and a fair amount of quiet cursing, but eventually they got it so that Winnie was on Miles’ back, with Jesse standing by to make sure she didn’t slip off. Miles had to walk nearly doubled over to keep her on since she couldn’t hold herself up, but it would only be until they reached the car. The cashier at the concession stand smiled at them as they passed by. 

 

“You alright there?”

 

Jesse waved a hand and nodded his head. “Yep! We’re good. It’s just way past her bedtime.”

 

“Your mom know you took her out?” asked the guy, leaning over the counter.

 

“Uh. No?” replied Jesse. “It was a bit spur of the moment. We didn’t really. Consult our mom.”

 

“Um, Jesse?” Miles said, his voice strained. “I know she’s only eleven but she’s actually pretty- pretty heavy so can we-”

 

“Right! Yes, sorry.” Jesse waved goodbye to the concession guy. “Eleven year olds passing out in movie theaters. You know how it is, man.”

 

“I actually don’t, surprisingly,” laughed the guy. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

 

“Uh, maybe. Bye,” called Jesse, already halfway to the front doors with a very weighed down Miles. It was only after they got Winnie (still unconscious) buckled into the back seat that he paused and said, “Wait. Did that guy think she was our sister?”

 

“Yeah,” replied Miles, turning the key in the ignition. “He was also flirting with you.”

 

Jesse froze, then turned to look back at the doors of the movie theater. “What? No way.”

 

“He was. I know him, he’s a senior, he’s in my APUSH class. He’s very gay.” Miles snuck a glance at Jesse. “Are you gonna turn on the radio, or are you going to keep gaping out the window this entire drive?”

 

“ _ Why didn’t you say something?! _ ” Jesse squeaked, fumbling as he flipped the radio on. The middle part of  _ Electric Love _ began playing at low volume. 

 

“I thought you  _ knew _ . It was really obvious.” 

 

“How do you even know he’s gay?!”

 

“Because unlike you,” Miles said, peering through the windshield to read a street sign, “I actually bother showing up to most of the GSA meetings at school.” 

 

“They conflict with my technical theatre club meetings, what am I supposed to do about that?” Jesse crossed his arms and slid further down in his seat. “Great. Now I’m just annoyed at another missed opportunity.”

 

“He’s eighteen. I don’t think you should be dating eighteen year olds anyway. So look on the bright side: even if you had realized it, I would’ve pulled a dick big brother move and ruined it.”  _ Electric Love _ faded out and was replaced, with minimal commentary by Hugo, by something neither Jesse nor Miles recognized.

 

“Gee, thanks, Miles.”

 

There was a few minutes of silence, punctuated by small snores from Winnie in the back. Miles kept glancing back in the rearview mirror to see if she’d woken up yet with the motion of the car, but her eyes were still closed and her breathing was even. That girl could sleep through  _ anything _ . After the fifth time of looking back at her and then back at the road, he cleared his throat into the quietness of the car, shattering the sleepy atmosphere.

 

“Whatever happened to that date you were supposed to have today, anyway?” Immediately, he sensed that he’d touched a nerve. Jesse tensed and pulled his arms closer to himself, looking out the right window, as far away from meeting Miles’ gaze as possible.

 

“Dunno. Didn’t work out.”

 

A red light. Miles pulled to a stop, then looked over at Jesse properly. “What do you mean?” No answer. “Did you cancel?”

 

“...No.”

 

“Did  _ he _ ?”

 

There was a prolonged silence again, so long that Miles was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get an answer at all. Then Jesse let out a loud sigh and ran a hand through his hair, standing it straight on end. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Any reason why?” Miles prompted, after enough time had passed that it was clear he was going to have to drag this out of Jesse piece by piece. 

 

“He. Uh. He said he realized that he, um, likes girls.” Jesse was still avoiding eye contact like it would kill him. Miles frowned, confused.

 

“So?  _ I _ like girls, that doesn’t mean-”

 

“ _ Just _ girls.”

 

“Oh.” The light turned green, and Miles hit the gas pedal with a bit more force than necessary. He’d never met this guy they were talking about; He was just some classmate from one or another of Jesse’s weird clubs. The really annoying thing was that this dude had been the one to ask  _ Jesse _ out, not the other way around. So it was an even more of a dick move than it could have been. “Want me to kick his ass?”

 

“What? No.” Jesse still wasn’t looking at him, but there was a little less tension in his shoulders.

 

“‘Cause I will. I’ll do it,” Miles continued casually. “Just, like, after school one day? Bam. Upside the head. Problem solved.”

 

Jesse gave a tiny  _ huff _ sound that could have been a laugh, and sat up straighter. “Knock it off, dude. It’s really not a big deal. He’s just one jerk, you know?”

 

Miles dropped the jokey tone of the conversation and nodded, his hands wrapped tight around the wheel. “Yeah. I know.”

 

Winnie woke up as they pulled into her driveway, once the white noise of the car engine was gone. 

 

“Where… what time is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning. 

 

“We just got back to your house. It’s only about 10:30,” said Miles, helping her out of the car.

 

“And, bonus, we got you home before your mom!” Jesse cried. “Nice.”

 

“‘M tired,” mumbled Winnie, carefully navigating her way up the porch and waiting for Miles to unlock the door. 

 

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t, seeing as your mom always tells us to put you to bed at seven,” Miles remarked, opening the front door so that she could stumble inside.

 

Jesse followed, muttering, “I still can’t believe we’re supposed to do that,” under his breath. The first time they had babysat Winnie, just under a year ago, they’d unanimously agreed not to uphold that particular rule; They both believed that no self-respecting person over the age of five went to bed before nine. It was probably for the best that Mrs. Foster didn’t know about  _ that _ little liberty, let alone all the others that they took- like letting Winnie watch TV on weekdays, eat candy, and (now) go to the movies at night. 

 

Still, at the end of the day they were babysitters, so they quickly got Winnie upstairs and ready for bed.

 

“Remember to brush your teeth!” Jesse called up to her, and only received a loud, muffled groan in response. He waved a hand dismissively. “She’ll be fine.”

 

“We’re terrible babysitters,” said Miles, stretching out on the couch. He was so tall that he took up the full length of it. “Why the fuck did we do that.”

 

“For the hell of it, I think,” Jesse replied. He plopped down in an armchair and pulled out his phone, then immediately put it down and stood back up. “Hang on. I think Hugo’s still on the radio.”

 

“This late?”

 

“He was on when we were in the car.” Jesse walked over to the Foster’s digital-display radio and fiddled with it for a few seconds. “There we go.” Hugo was in the middle of a sentence.

 

“-and I don’t even  _ like  _ salmon...Sorry, that was off topic… Anyway, hope everyone’s having a good Friday night. I, uh, know I sure am. Sitting in a radio studio for five hours is really what I love doing with my time, and all that. I guess. Alright. Gonna close out my shift with something slower. Which wasn’t my idea, by the way, it’s on the schedule and- right, sorry, my boss is making faces at me, sorry.  _ Ho Hey _ by the Lumineers. Sorry.”

 

They sat in silence until the song faded out and Hugo signed off, replaced by a guy who was somehow even quieter and played even slower music. At some point, Jesse must have dozed off, because the next thing he was aware of was Miles shaking him as the front door opened and Mrs. Foster came in. 

 

“Hi boys,” she said quietly, although there was really no chance of Winnie hearing her. “Thank you for looking after my girl.”

 

“It was no trouble, Mrs. Foster,” Miles assured her, and Jesse nodded quickly, standing up. “How’s your mother doing?”

 

“Mother-in-law,” Mrs. Foster corrected, then sighed, shaking her head. “She’s so forgetful these days. I keep trying to convince her to move in with Winnie and I, but she’s very independent. Won’t accept anything she sees as charity.” She paused for a moment, then shot them both a strained, but genuine smile. “You’ll be wanting to be paid, of course.” She pulled out her wallet and produced a stack of bills. “Now, I know I told Jesse I’d pay you both like normal, but I felt bad because I already promised Miles double when I thought he’d be doing it alone. So I decided to just pay you both extra, to balance it out.” She handed them each a roll of bills that was far too thick.

 

“Oh, Mrs. Foster-” Miles began.

 

“We couldn’t possibly-” Jesse interrupted.

 

“-just too much-”

 

“-really not that important-”

 

“Boys!” she exclaimed, cutting them off. “Just take the money, it’s  _ fine _ . You’re both fantastic babysitters and you deserve it. Winnie loves it when you come over. Honestly, I don’t think I’m paying you  _ enough _ .”

 

The two of them shared a glance and finally Miles managed to croak, “Well. I guess all we can really say is. Thank you.” Jesse quickly thumbed through the bills in his hands, his eyes growing wider every second. “Uh. Have a good weekend!”

 

“Bye! Take care now,” said Mrs. Foster, walking them to the door. “I’ll call the next time we need you.” They waved goodbye and went outside, practically collapsing inside the car and staring at each other in disbelief.

 

“Holy shit,” Jesse hissed. “Holy fucking shit. I think this is the most money I have ever had. Ever. In my life.”

 

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

 

“Well, yeah, maybe not, but it’s a  _ lot _ , okay?” He looked through the bills one more time before stuffing them in his pocket like they would disappear. “Do you know how many packets of gum I could buy with this, Miles? Do you know how many? A fuckton! That’s how many!”

 

“We’ve definitely, uh, recouped our investment with those movie tickets.”

 

“UH YEAH DO YOU THINK?” 

 

“Please don’t shout in my car,” said Miles, making a show of wincing at the sudden volume. “And I’m choosing the music this time.”

 

“But I’ve got shotgun!” Jesse whined. “Shotgun gets radio!”

 

“It’s  _ my _ car, asshole.” After a few seconds of flicking through stations, he settled on one of the classic rock ones Jesse was always skipping over. “Nice. Good.”

 

“All these songs are about, like, dying and being broke.”

 

“Well, at least we’re only one of those things now.”

 

“Wow. Gonna post that quote to MySpace when we get home?”

 

“I hate you.”

  
“Psh. No, you don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> we finally have a fandom tag!!! i can die now
> 
> im deadtucks on tumblr. come yell at me


End file.
